Fresh Paint
by Science-project-failure
Summary: AU No powers. It's modern day New York and Erik, a temperamental artist with stylish friends comes across Charles, a young genius professor with wit and surreal beauty. Together and amongst friends, they learn and discover themselves in a new light.
1. 1 Kandinsky was actually colorblind

_This story is inspired by liverquiver's hilarious comic strips about hipster XMFC. Go see them on her tumblr!_

**Chapter 1: Kandinsky was actually colorblind**

It was a chilly morning in New York and Erik was _not_ satisfied with his painting. He had scraped two canvases, a brush and nearly the whole night before he decided to simply abandon and try later. Passing it again when he woke up, he noticed there was just something missing, it seemed. A color or a shade, maybe. He was starting to lose his mind. That was at that precise moment that his darling cell phone decided to ring. The caller ID said 'Ice Bitch'. If Emma knew that was her contact name, she already would have made a nice purse out of Erik's ball sack. Having barely slept for, what, his entire life, Erik decided to ignore the call in preference of a nice shower and coffee because he was too tired for this shit.

You see, Erik is an artist. So basically, he hates everyone. You know the kind; cool, handsome, moody with a twinge of gay. He falls in love with beauty, though, not gender. Let's be clear on one thing though; Erik can even turn on lifeless objects. That's how hot he is. He could make anyone come within two seconds with only a look. Point is, he's a sexy motherfucker. But strangely, he doesn't act on it, like many others would. He lives for art and if life gets in the way of that, fuck life. He does sleep around. After all, he _is_ human and fully aware of sexual tension. He's just not one of those _frais-chiers_ art student hipsters that believe everyone wants them.

Yeah. You may think an irritable artist living in New York is pretty stereotypical. But you'll come to notice that Erik is quite different. Where the said hipsters say French words to try and be cool, Erik actually _speaks_ French fluently as well as a multitude of other languages including Spanish, Russian and his mother tongue, German. Where those same hipsters get tattoos of things and sentences that make no sense, Erik has a wondrous ink of a wings-spread silver phoenix engulfed in dark flames he drew himself that goes from his left shoulder to the middle of his back. Where art students stain a canvas and call it 'art', he depicts mazes of emotions through posture, color, shade, disposition and a lot of other factors out of real beauty he creates. Where all those underground kids say religion is vain and wear the symbols ironically, Erik is very much Jewish and he celebrates his beliefs seriously. There are many more things separating Erik from those posers. Erik is authentic and unique and he has talent. He has hurt, baggage, and it makes him see the world differently, pouring into his creations all the distortions he finds in reality. That or he's just really moody.

He won't admit it, but inside, he's a huge teddy bear. There's a painting he did, he gave it to a girl called Raven, where you can clearly see Marilyn Monroe but something is wrong with her. Marilyn is smiling too widely, you can see tears prickling her eyes, her skin looks purple like she's not breathing, her corset is impossibly tight, she wears too much make-up, her garters are biting into her skin, her perfectly manicured fingers seem badly bitten at the cuticles like she's wearing false nails to hide the real ones, her wrists are marred with scars, there are blue splotches on her arms, the insides of her thighs are slightly chaffed, her nose is bleeding a bit and you can see white powder there too. That is if you look closely. From a distance, all you see is Marilyn in a background of vivid crimson fading to black.

He actually did this painting _for_ Raven. He was at a studio looking for models for his paintings when he met her; a natural beauty with a round face and an elegance that was rarely found these days. Through talking to this girl, he found out she was highly uncomfortable in her body, what with being in an industry that hates curves. After making the 'Weeping Marilyn', he made an incredible portrait of a stoic Raven in a majestic blue gown surrounded by fire and a myriad of dark-feathered birds. She looked like a goddess. Raven never doubted her beauty again.

He still keeps in touch with the girl. He likes her, she's a good kid. She dropped out of modeling and is now serving coffees part-time at a local cafe while studying in politics at Columbia instead.

He sees her every day.

She might be one of the only ones he can actually stand, and she is one of the rare people who aren't scared shitless of him. He can actually open up to her, he talks about his life and knows everything about hers.

Erik is thinking of Raven with a smile on his face now. He feels it's a bit inappropriate since he's going to take a shower and wank away his morning wood furiously. So he steadfastly switches to his new infatuation; Raven's brother.

_XXX_

He had met him for the first time a few weeks ago when he walked into the Hellfire cafe and saw him chatting away with Raven. He looked young, perhaps early twenties, rivalling with his thirty years of existence. He didn't know who this strange bright eyed guy making motions in the air could be at first but then remembered that Raven had mentioned her brother would fly in from London to teach in New York a few days past.

"Hi, Raven. How are you?"

"Fine, fine! Meet my brother Charles." Raven said all enthusiastic. Having forgotten his glasses, Erik had not seen the man well enough when he entered the cafe but was now confronted to five feet and seven inches of pure magnificence. The face was especially sinful. There were lips redder than any he'd seen before, lodged between a set of pearly white teeth, smirking up at him like the pair of cerulean eyes watching him intently. To top it off, he wore his dark hair in a grown out forties fashion that fell into his eyes and brushed his pale but vibrantly blushing complexion. Erik was falling hard.

"Hello, I'm Charles Xavier. Darkholme's my step dad." The exquisite creature suddenly held out a hand. Erik, dumbfounded, stared at it for a few long seconds before shaking it back and choking once on his words like he drank water trough the wrong passage, rasping out a stern and quiet "Lensherr, Erik Lensherr."

"Wellll, I guess I better go make your latte, then. And take off your beanie! Manners." Raven was not oblivious as to what was happening there. Erik let out a chuckle and looked back at the tumult of vivacious colors adorning the smaller man's impish face. Charles was laughing as well, both of them a bit embarrassed by Raven's very obvious comment. It was Charles who broke the ice.

"So, Raven tells me you're an artist?"

"Yeah. Teaching is my work, painting is my life."

"Oh, you teach?"

"History of Art. Part-time as a course lecturer at Columbia Uni. I'm actually setting up my own gallery right now."

"Oh. I've just recently gotten a teaching position at Columbia myself."

"Oh yeah? What department?"

"Genetics & Development. I also do course lectures in maths." Charles said with a smug smile.

If Erik had been drinking his coffee, he'd have been spitting it all out right about now. Teaching position, genetics, what? He was barely in his twenties, for god's sake! He'd have to have had his Ph. D. at―

"I graduated from Harvard at sixteen. Went to Oxford afterwards, got my Ph.D.s in Genetics, Biophysics, and Psychology with a two year residence at Pembroke College. And now, here I am." Charles was smiling proudly now. Erik's eyes were impossibly huge.

"What? How old are you? Or, more importantly, how can your brain be that potent?" Erik was struck with an expression of awe mixed with incredulousness.

Charles broke out in a full earthy laugh.

"I'm twenty-seven and my brain has always been that potent. It's so potent I can read minds!"

"Yeah. And I bend metal." Erik said, shaking his head with a smile.

"Seriously! I can sense that you like lattes―"

"That's because Raven is making me one." Erik was smirking a bit now.

"―And that you think I would like a latte too. One day, somewhere were my darling wee sister doesn't work?" There was a tongue darting out from those lips. Tongue, tongue, _tongue._ Erik's brain was slowly short circuiting.

"Well done. There's this little place up on the fifth, it's my flat actually." Erik broke out a sharkish grin.

"Hey, oh! Guys, how can that be possible? You're beasts or what? Already, Charles? Erik?" Raven looked as though she had just seen her grandparents making out. "Ugh! Get a fucking room." And she stormed out.

"Language, sis." Charles was smiling fondly.

"I'm not a fucking five year old!" Raven shrieked from the kitchen.

Erik and Charles looked back at each other barely containing their laughter.

"I think she may have had a bit of a crush on you." Charles said lowly.

"Did not!" Raven shrieked again and startled the two men waiting at the counter. How has she been able to hear Charles all the way over there?

"How does she _do_ that?" Erik asked, incredulous.

_XXX_


	2. 2 Oil is tough, but it's prettier

**Chapter 2: Oil is tough, but it's prettier than water-color **

When he got out of his shower, Erik picked up his phone and saw seven missed calls, all from 'Ice Bitch'. He chuckled a bit to himself and made a mental note to stop by her studio when the phone rang again, only this time, the caller ID said 'Riptide'.

"Janos?" Erik picked it up.

"Erik! So when it's Janos, you pick-up but when it's me, you ignore your phone. I'm hurt."

Erik smiled into the receiver and answered back.

"I was taking a shower."

"Oh."

"What's so important you had to call me seven times in twenty minutes for?"

There was a pause and then "Emma?"

"I _need_ you to reconsider."

"Emma, no. We talked about it, I am not a fashion model."

"Pleaseplease_please_! You'd be perfect for this shoot! The clothes _scream_ you!"

"You know how much I dislike those things, and Pjotr keeps trying to get a good grope. It freaks me out!"

"Oh, you know those Russian types, they're just handsy!"

"Azazeal's not handsy."

"Azazeal's not human!"

"Quiet and reserved does not mean 'not human', Emma."

"Whatever. Will you do it? Pretty pleaaase?"

"... What's in it for me?"

"I'll buy you dinner."

"That's no―"

"At Delmonico's."

Erik let out a sigh. Delmonico's _was_ a very good place.

"Well?"

"I'll do it." Erik winced as he heard a squeal on the other side of the line.

"You're the best! Be at the studio next Saturday at ten, don't shave!" and she hung up.

Emma is Michael's best friend, if he can call her that. They met in college; he was studying in applied plastic arts while she studied in fashion to become a designer. They met over a common class and bonded instantly. She's the kind of friend who's mean to you and who you're mean too, but she also picks you up bit by bit when you fall apart and knows every aspect of you.

Emma's like that. And Erik hates her and loves her like he would a very fashionable and sarcastic little sister. Although they have never crossed the sexual barrier, Emma repeatedly reminds Erik of his sheer handsomeness and keeps harassing him for photo shoots. During a particularly entertaining session of getting shitfaced, she even came up with a nickname for Erik. She called him 'Magneto' because he apparently 'attracts all the little bitches around like a fucking magnet!'

Following this lovely conversation, Erik finally got dressed. Dickies, white shirt, hoodie, beanie, glasses and grey converses? Checked, checked and triple bloody checked. He took his keys, cell phone and messenger bag and headed out to the Hellfire cafe. Dearest Charles had previously taken him up on his offer for a latte at his place and they had a pretty good time. Ever since, they've been meeting at the cafe every Tuesday, when neither of them had a class to teach. It was now only a matter of time before they got completely smashed and bumfucked.

It didn't help things that Charles was being an absolute fucking tease. Always toeing around the line of sexual tension, he let Erik boil slowly until all he had to do was to pull him out of the water and play with him like he was silly putty.

When he walked into the cafe, Erik made a show of making his presence known. He raised both hands and shouted a 'Guten Morgen, my friend.' in Charles' general direction before making a beeline for the table the geneticist was sitting at.

"¿Como estas?" Erik said with a grin.

"I could be better; Raven and Angel came in at two this morning. I can't believe I'm staying in the same dorm as my students _and_ my sister." Charles sounded exasperated.

"How come?" Erik was intrigued.

"You know how I told you I'm staying with my sis until I find myself a real flat? Well, Raven stays on campus."

"You poor thing." Erik pondered this for a moment.

"Why don't you stay at my place?" Erik blurted out.

"Are you serious? Because if you're serious, that'd be lovely."

"Yeah, I mean, my flat is on fifth, ten minutes walk from our work, and I've got a sofa bed, which is very comfortable."

"I'm sure your bed is very comfortable." Charles said with a sly grin.

Erik had caught upon the innuendo and grinned as well.

"When do you want to pick your things up?" Erik had to ask.

"Now-ish?"

"I'll ask for a take-away latte then." Erik couldn't help but smile, a thing he seemed to be doing quite often for the past few weeks.

When they got to the counter, Raven didn't even have the time to say 'Hey, Erik!' before Charles told her the game plan.

"Sis, I love you but I'm moving out. Living with your students is awkward and I'm moving in with Erik."

"Next thing you know, you will be making gay babies." Raven muttered.

"What was that?" Charles squinted as if that could make him hear better.

"Nothing! I said 'Next thing you know, Hugh will be making hay berries.'" Raven said in all her innocence.

"Riiight." Charles said, not trusting her one bit.

"Anyway, we're going to collect my stuff now so Erik will take his latte to-go." Raven looked at her brother like he had asked her how he and Erik should name their new puppy.

"Thanks, honey." Erik deadpanned.

"No trouble, darling." Charles replied in a similar fashion.

"Ugh." Raven rolled her eyes and started making Erik's latte.

When they got to Raven's dorm, the first thing Erik noticed was the huge Mexican looking bong in the corner next to the umbrella holder.

"Is that yours? It's pretty big."

"Nah, that's Angel's. I'm old fashioned, I smoke joints."

"You smoke?" Erik chuckled.

"Of course I do, it's very therapeutic."

Erik just kept looking at Charles with a goofy smile on his face.

"What?"

"You. A professor professor, not like me but a real professor, adorable to boot, who smokes pot. Who'd have thought."

"Ah, looks can be deceiving."

"On the contrary, I like this. I have an idea; after we get your stuff to my place, let's say we go enjoy this little wonder?" Erik pulled a metal cigarettes holder from his messenger bag, opened it and pulled out a neatly rolled joint.

"What is it?"

"Afghan, I've got Haze growing at home though."

"A man who knows his weed, how arousing." Charles said with a lick of his lips. Erik met his gaze with a grin.

It was not long before Charles had packed and settled all his things into Erik's apartment.

Finding a spot in Central Park to lie on the grass away from people at two in the afternoon was not too arduous. Getting stoned and staying decent might have been a bit more tedious. It was fine until Erik had proposed a shotgun and Charles had, of course, accepted. Things were still alright when Erik climbed on top of Charles, taking his glasses off and away from potential damage. Nothing had happened yet when Erik took a drag from the joint, exhaled, then finished the joint and threw it out. It's when Erik lowered his face to Charles and started to exhale into Charles' parted lips that things started to drift away from PG. That's when Charles drew out his tongue to lick Erik's bottom lip that things started to heat up rather fast. Erik riposted with a feverish kiss that left them both literally breathless since they had smoke they had to eventually exhale, or in their cases, choke out. But it was worth choking for a bit because the resulting high was pretty intense.

Erik would have loved to take Charles right there, in the possibility of people passing by and seeing them, which was actually unlikely since they were pretty far from the path. But something in his mind, or possibly Charles, told him that might not be such a good idea. It's when Charles broke their heavy making-out session with a 'Do you think we'll be able to find our way back? I hope we'll be able to find our way back. Ooh, rooocks. I like the way the _s_ sounds at the end of _rocks_. It's like 'rock-_sss_'.' that Erik realised that they could be doing much naughtier things at home, and possibly not talk about rocks which became suddenly fascinating.

Erik then got off of Charles and sat in front of him, his long legs spread before him and his hands keeping him in place behind him. Then, Erik looked at his crotch.

"Charles, we have a problem." Erik was still staring at his crotch.

"What is it, darling? Hihihi, I called you darling." Charles rose up as well, facing Erik who was still intently looking at his crotch.

"I've got a massive hard-on." Charles' smile faltered as he looked at his own crotch, then at Erik's, and noticed the, um, _girth_ of the man before him.

"How am I supposed to walk back home with a massive hard-on!" Erik half-heartedly scolded his penis.

"I could help with that." Charles seemed transfixed on Erik's bulge.

"This is a public park, Charles. Puh-blic, puuuuh-blic, P-U―"

"It's alright, I've got it." Charles cut Erik's ramblings short.

"Public?" Erik said, making himself tiny and adorable.

"Oh, shut it." Charles said with a smile.

"Think about it! We have to find a solution now. It will be like 'Erik and Charles' great adventure!'" Erik made a motion of his hands in the air to show the potential it had.

"Oh! I've GOT it!"

"And we could have, like, a huge dog, sort of, yeah! Like three times bigger than us! Wait, what?"

"The solution! The solutionnn..."

"What, what's your solution?"

"You conceal yourself discreetly with your bag, I conceal myself with mine! And then we get to your flat and we remedy the situation." Charles said while rubbing his hands together manically.

"Charles, you don't have a bag."

"Then I'll do with my coat."

"Good plan."


	3. 3 You've got a little there, on

**Chapter 3: You've got a little... there, on your chin.**

After stumbling through the streets of Manhattan high as kites and dissimulating erections miraculously without getting hit by a cab, Erik and Charles finally managed to reach the flat. It's when they got confronted by the lock that things became a bit difficult. Eventually, Erik realised he might need keys to enter said flat and started rummaging through his bag.

"Erik, be careful, Erik. Your glasses will fall out of your bag, Erik. See, I told you, Erik. They fell out of your bag, Erik, the glasses." Then Charles bent down to pick up the glasses and ended up sitting on the floor.

"Stupid key, why won't you turn? Ah, it's because you are not a key. You are a pin... thing."

"Pin-thing, pin-thing, pin-thing―"

"Aha! There you are."

"―Phing-pin, thin-ping... I can't do it anymore Erik, my tongue is dead."

"Your tongue is not dead... Is it? Let me check."

"Am I going to die? Erik, my tongue is dead, Erik. I can't kiss you anymore!"

"It's not dead because you can talk."

"...I'm bright, I should've known that."

"Look, Charles, the key is buggering the lock, heheee!"

"Hahahaaa!"

"Ok, seriousss. Door, open."

"Hey, Erik, your door is opened, Erik."

"Yes it is, indeed."

Charles just sat there looking at the doorframe while Erik did the same, only he was standing.

"Aren't we supposed to go in?"

Erik looked at his crotch.

"I've still got a hard-on."

"Yesss, that was the point of the exercise."

"What exercise?"

"Get to your flat, do naughty things..?"

"Charles. You have to get up now, Charles."

"Erikerikerikeriiik, I like saying your name. Eee-rrrikkk." Charles got up, walked into the flat and closed the door.

"Lock the door, we don't want robbers to come and rob our food or something."

"Yes, protect the food."

"God, I'm hungry."

"Food, later. Shag, now."

Charles walked up to Erik and assaulted his lips. It took a second for Erik to fully comprehend what was happening and respond fervently. Once again, before he could fully process it, the hot tongue slip sliding against his own was gone.

"Charles? Charles, you disappeared." Erik was looking around him with no Charles in sight.

"Down here."

Erik bent his head just in time to see Charles engulf his cock into the mouth he'd been kissing seconds ago. In time with Charles' motion, Erik threw his head back with a choked out moan.

"Fuckfuckittyfucking_fuck_―"

Charles licked a long stripe from base to tip. He worked at it like it was candy.

"Charles, _Charles_. Fuck. Aah― your tongue is not dead, Charles. It's very much alive, _fuck_."

Erik's hand reached down to grip Charles' hair.

"Charles, bleeding Christ, I've got― I've got condoms in the― aah... Stop, stop, Charles, you're too good at this I'll embarrass myself."

Charles let go of Erik's cock at once. He looked up at the other man, hair dishevelled, lips red and glistening with spit, eyes wide and a flush creeping on his cheeks.

"The bag, condoms and lube, in the bag. Also, covers, sheets, _your_ sheets, ah, the one you're supposed to sleep in tonight. They're on the sofa, put them on the floor, it's cold." Erik motioned with his hand vaguely.

Charles grinned and retrieved the elements he was told to retrieve. Erik turned to take off his shoes, hoodie and shirt. That's when Charles saw it.

"Erik, there's a bird on your back, Erik. It's beautiful."

"What?"

"Don't move! It'll fly away!"

"It's a tattoo Charles."

"Oh... I want to touch it."

Erik stared at Charles. The sight was delightful. Charles had spread the sheets on the living room floor like he had told him to and was now resting; legs parted, hands supporting him, pupils blown.

Erik took a step forward and dropped to Charles. He kissed him furiously before rising his shirt up and kissing his chest.

"Fuck, Charles. Your skin is so smooth I could paint on it."

Erik reached the hem of Charles' jeans and unbuttoned them. He gripped the pants' legs and swiftly slipped them off Charles, leaving the socks on. Charles giggled and pushed at his underwear. Erik then, catching on, slipped Charles' underwear along the same path his jeans had previously followed. Erik bent down for a lazy open mouthed kiss while he gently pushed Charles' legs apart. Erik reached for the condoms and the little bottle of lube on his side. He opened a packet, carefully slipped the condom onto his dick and spread a generous amount of lube into his left palm, all the while kissing Charles in that same debauched fashion.

He coated a finger, two, then slipped them along the cleft of Charles' arse. Charles gasped as the cold long finger came in contact with his sensitive skin. Erik pushed a finger against Charles' puckered hole and heaved a sigh as the smaller man moaned in his mouth. He pushed his finger once more, breaching the tight ring of muscle, and Charles grabbed his head.

Thrusting his finger inside Charles a few times, he added one, then another. Erik bent his fingers, looking for that special spot, when Charles twitched and his back arched under him as he started whimpering out a string of '_fuckfuckfuck_'. It was Charles who grabbed Erik's slick palm and stroke Erik's shaft with it. When he judged it was slick enough, Charles took Erik and placed him at his entrance.

Erik began pushing up as Charles was pushing down. He got in almost all the way, thrusting slowly.

"Ohh fuck! Erik, Erik, fuck, Erik. _Fuck _I've never felt something that huge― aah!"

Charles bit into his lower lip roughly, eyes closed in pleasure.

Erik could not answer anything back as he was enthralled by Charles writhing. All he could utter were low moans and heavy breaths as tight heat circled his member.

Feeling Erik wasn't pushing in fast enough, Charles grabbed his arse and shoved himself onto Erik up until the hilt.

"_Shit!_ Charles, fuck!"

Erik got the hint and proceeded to thrust in faster and faster until Charles reached for him and flipped them. Charles ran a hand through his locks and started riding Erik languidly, eyes closed, lips parted. Erik, taken by the sudden overflow of the image before him, gripped Charles' thighs, sure to leave bruises. As he lowered himself onto the other man, Charles let out gasps and moans suggesting he'd found a pleasurable angle. His left hand slithered over his stomach while the other one was supporting him on Erik's legs. Feeling his release near, Erik shot up and circled his arms around Charles' lithe body.

Erik pushed Charles back down onto his back, grabbed his left leg and put it over his shoulder. He thrust in hard and fast, kissing the inside of Charles' leg and gripping his waist.

"Erik, Erik, I'm com― ah, Erik..." Charles reached down to his cock and pumped.

A few thrusts later, Charles was coming between them, clasping tight around Erik. Erik came but a few seconds later with a choked moan and a low growl.

Still basking in the afterglow, Charles took off the t-shirt that had been riding up to his shoulders, wiped himself and tossed it at Erik so he could do the same.

Charles and Erik were lying on their stomachs next to one another, satiated from their languorous round of shagging. Charles couldn't help but stroke his finger along the delicate line of the phoenix tattooed on the other man's back. It was beautiful, graceful, detailed.

"I designed it myself, I got it tattooed by a friend." Erik put an arm over his head and turned to Charles, a smirk tugging at the left corner of his lips.

"It's beautiful. It dances when you shrug your shoulders."

"You don't have any ink?"

"Never got the chance although I would like a small one, maybe. One day."

Erik just looked into Charles' eyes and smirked up.

"I have an idea."

Erik rose from the floor, naked as the day he was born, and went to the sound system to put some music on. A few seconds later, Jimi Hendrix's interpretation of _All Along The Watchtower_ wafted through the room. Erik started swaying to the music's enthralling guitars. Charles remained transfixed on the smooth way Erik's body was moving, and also the phoenix on his back that seemed to be shaking its wings.

"_There must be some kind of way out of here! Said the joker to the thief._" Erik sang along to the song while picking up a brush and two pots of acrylic paint.

"_There's too much confusion, I can't get no relief!_" Erik settled the pots on the coffee table and straddled Charles hips.

"_Business men they drink my wine! Plow men dig my earth._" Erik lowered his face onto Charles' neck and sang into it.

"_None will level on the line, nobody offered his word, hey!_"

Charles was laughing freely now, giggling even. Erik smiled back lazily at him.

"This here is my favourite part." Then Erik closed his eyes, smiled and bent to the music.

He picked his brush from behind his ear and dipped it in the blue paint. He trailed the brush over Charles' stomach, he shivered in response.

"That tickles."

"Mmhm."

They stain the sheets they sprawled on the floor, dipping their hands in paint and stroking each other with it. In the end, Charles is a masterpiece and Erik is just full of paint everywhere.

"Uh-oh. Acrylic can't get out of cloth." Charles looked like a child who had broken a vase.

"I don't care, it'll be a reminder of today."

Erik chuckled and Charles responded with a fond smile.

"Hey, I've got my guitar somewhere, I could play some Johnny Cash later if you wan―"

"You play guitar?"

"Yes..?"

"That is so hot. God, what _don't_ you do?"

Erik blushed, and looked at Charles longingly.

"Do you want to date?"

"Erik, you're still high."

"No, I mean, even sober I want to date you."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yes, and, you know, It's convenient. I like you, you like me, it's a party. And you live here now too. It's perfect."

"It _is_ perfect. And considering we just shagged, I'd say that's a pretty good agreement."

"So, we're dating?"

"We're dating."

"No changing your mind when the Afghan wears off?"

"Not if you don't."

"I'd never."

"Good, then. It's settled." Charles smiled and kissed Erik lightly on the lips. "Did you ever notice that when you say 'rocks', the _s_ lingers?"

"Really? I never really noticed, no." Erik had a befuddled expression on his handsome face.

"You repeat words."

"You repeat words too."

"It's because I'm blasted with multiple substances including weed and endorphins." Charles rubbed his face.

"What about me?" Erik pouted.

"You're blasted with multiple substances including weed and endorphins too."

"See, you repeat your words." Erik smiled triumphantly.

"I'm hungry."


End file.
